


Trust

by Unfeathered



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Torchwood
Genre: BDSM, BDSM Scene, Cock Cages, Consensual Kink, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Light BDSM, M/M, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:20:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24702181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unfeathered/pseuds/Unfeathered
Summary: After his return to his team, Jack is prepared to make a few concessionsSet four days afterKiss Kiss, Bang Bang.  Written for Round 36 atrounds-of-kink, for the prompt:lesson learned the hard wayand the kinks:forced orgasm or orgasm denial, humiliation, noise
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67
Collections: 36 - Round Thirty-Six of Rounds of Kink





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the wonerful [karios ](/users/karios%20/) for a very swift beta!

"I'd like you to wear this for me, sir, just for a few days."

"You'd like me to wear _what?_ " A trickle of apprehension skitters down Jack's spine as he turns from his desk to see what Ianto's springing on him this time.

"Just for a few days," Ianto repeats patiently, holding out the clear plastic cock cage. "Just so I know I can trust you."

Jack opens his mouth to reply reassuringly that Ianto _can_ trust him, then remembers he's the guy who disappeared without a word, for _months_ , and then, the minute he got back, thrust his ex-lover down his team's throats (not literally!) and nearly got them all killed. It's only been four days and one mostly-successful, only-slightly-awkward date night. Probably not really long enough for Ianto to be okay with trusting him yet.

He looks Ianto over as he stands there waiting, only a couple of paces in from the door. Superficially, Ianto seems patient but now that Jack's really looking he can see the tension in the suit-covered shoulders, the way Ianto's weight keeps shifting, the way Ianto's finding it hard to meet his gaze except in little flicks up towards his face.

This is important to Ianto. He needs it. Perhaps even deserves it.

Hell, after the year he's just had, perhaps Jack needs this too. Needs to learn to trust and be trusted again.

His shoulders go down and he manages to catch Ianto's gaze with a small smile. "All right."

Ianto looks a little stunned, as if he wasn't expecting it to be that easy.

"Just for a few days, though, yeah?" he checks, because it won't do to appear too eager to please. He has a reputation to live up to, after all.

Well, partly that, partly that he's really not that fond of cock cages. He's a hedonist; he likes to be able to enjoy himself.

Though he's also a masochist, and frequently a submissive. That means his feelings towards such things tend to be rather… mixed.

Ianto nods, his gaze shifting away. "I just… I don't expect you to be faithful, not forever. But if you want to have a real go at making this a proper relationship, I need to be sure. Just for a few days. You know – if you want me to be your boyfriend, not just your not-quite-secret office shag."

There's a lingering almost-question mark, as if Ianto's not quite sure that _is_ what Jack wants.

"That's what I want," he confirms, and is rewarded by Ianto looking up at him again, the flicker of a smile on his lips.

"Good, well…" Ianto takes a step forward, holding out the cock cage again.

It looks deceptively small and innocuous, for something that could symbolise such a massive change in their relationship. All right, the kinkiness isn't different, but the level of implied trust – from both of them – certainly is.

"Want to help me put it on?" Jack asks, voice dropping, all invitation and innuendo, and Ianto lets out a frustrated little huff and just thrusts the thing towards him.

"Will you be serious?"

"I _was_ being serious!" He frowns, still not taking the cage, not until he understands what's truly going on here. He hadn't realised quite how on edge Ianto is. "Ianto, what's wrong?"

"I… You… Ugh!" Ianto tosses the piece of plastic down onto the desk and then turns away, to pace across the room. Turning back, he rubs the back of his neck and eventually lifts his gaze again to meet Jack's, in what's almost a glare.

"I just need you to be straight with me, okay? I can't do this if I don't know you're on board, one hundred percent. It's a lot, you know? I can't… I can't _invest_ in this, in _us_ , if I can't feel… if I can't trust that you're going to do the same."

Jack holds his gaze for a long moment, relieved that Ianto is actually _meeting_ it at last, and reassesses. Okay. His normal methods are not going to work here. This is important, and if he's to have _any_ of what he came back for, with Ianto, he needs to do this right.

"Okay," he says quietly. "I'm being serious."

Looking down, he picks up the plastic sheath. It feels ridiculously tiny in his hand, though he knows full well it'll fit. Even if he hadn't had past experience of such things, he has great confidence in Ianto's attention to detail, and that includes knowing exactly what size his cock is at each and every stage of arousal.

Not that it ever seems to be particularly soft around Ianto.

He looks up again to find Ianto watching him, still fidgeting and uncertain, and he swallows. Fuck, this is difficult. Normally he'd use his charm and charisma to reassure and convince, but that isn't going to work here. It's his very charm and charisma that Ianto is, understandably enough, wary of. Doubly so after meeting John. Ianto must be exquisitely aware that John isn't the only one who's used to playing the charmer to twist people into getting his own way.

So he doesn't try and make a quip about the fact he's always up for a bit of bedroom bondage or whatever, and he doesn't reach for Ianto and pull him in for a kiss, though he'd very much like to.

He holds out his hand with the sheath in it. "Put it on me, Ianto. Please. Put it on me and know you can trust me."

He stares at Ianto, as open and resolute as he can make himself look, and lets out a breath when Ianto meets his eyes and gives him a tiny nod.

"All right," Ianto says. He squares his shoulders and steps forward, taking the cage, and immediately starts taking it apart in preparation for application, his hands deft and efficient. He flicks a glance up at Jack that makes his heart beat suddenly faster. "Trousers down then, please, sir."

He can't help it; he gives Ianto a beaming grin because Ianto is _hot_ when he takes charge. Ianto rolls his eyes of course, but there's a definite release in tension in both of them as Jack rapidly flips his braces off his shoulders, unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly, letting his trousers fall and settle around his thighs. He grips the edge of the desk with his fingers (wishing, not for the first time, that it actually had a proper lip to hang onto instead of just a smooth, shiny right angle) and leans back to let Ianto do his thing.

There's a bit of fumbling as Ianto fits the cage onto his cock, but Jack's fairly sure it's more down to nerves than unfamiliarity with the device. He's damn sure Ianto will have practised this enough to know exactly what he's doing. He clings onto the desk and thinks back to some of the nastier things the Master did to him to stop himself getting too hard under Ianto's brisk handling. And in a remarkably short amount of time his cock is encased in hard, transparent plastic and Ianto's threading the little padlock through the slot and locking it. One final check of the fit with efficient, knowledgeable fingers, and then Ianto's zipping and buckling him back up.

He pulls his braces back up onto his shoulders, watching Ianto thread the key onto his keyring and stuff the keyring back into his pocket.

"So, uh, how many days did we say?" he asks, just a tiny bit unsteady, because he really is giving Ianto a lot of power here and while it's unquestionably thrilling, it's just a tiny bit scary too. Well, more than a tiny bit, if he's honest. Not the cock cage itself, because he could get it off if he had to, but what it represents, the sheer amount of _expectation_ , going both ways.

He doesn't think he could have done this a year ago.

"We didn't," Ianto replies with a smirk. He leans in to lay a fleeting kiss on Jack's lips, and then he's moving away, though he pauses to turn in the doorway, one eyebrow raised. "You'd better get back to work. You've a _lot_ of paperwork to see to."

"Right. Yeah." He's not feeling very enthusiastic about paperwork right now. Not that he ever does, really.

Ianto gives him a warm, amused grin. "Clear enough of those papers by the end of the day, and I promise I'll make it up to you tonight."

That's more like it! He gives Ianto another brilliant smile, and watches him go before turning back to his desk with a sigh.

* * *

By the time the others have headed home for the night, his desk is three-quarters clear. Amazing what an incentive having your dick locked away is to actually getting some work done.

Well, okay, it's not just about that. It's also about wanting to do right by Ianto – by _all_ of them – this time around, and that includes doing his share of the paperwork. It really has built up while he's been gone. Only so much that Gwen could sign on his behalf, and only so much that Ianto could handle himself, however efficient a PA he is.

By the time Ianto appears at the door, though, Jack's very ready to call it a night. He looks up to enjoy the sight of Ianto lounging there, one shoulder against the door frame, hands in his trousers pockets, looking a hell of a lot more confident than he did earlier.

It suits him.

"All done, sir?" Ianto comes towards him, casting an assessing eye over the desk. "That's really rather impressive, you know." He lifts his eyes to Jack's face with a smirk. "I think there's actually space to fuck you over it now."

His heart leaps, and it takes some effort to just lean back casually in his chair and say, with a smirk of his own, "I thought you didn't want this to be an office thing any more?"

"I said I didn't want it to be _just_ an office thing any more," Ianto corrects him primly. "But since you apparently have an office kink, and since your desk really is the perfect height for such things, it would seem a pity to waste that." He shrugs a shoulder. "We can take it in turns. Office kink one night, proper date the next."

"When I said that about office kink, I didn't mean _my_ office turned me on!" he protests, but there's a twinkle in his eye, because… well. He's had a lot of sex in this office over the years, including quite a few occasions before it was _his_ office!

"How about me, in your office, turning you on?" Ianto asks innocently, and Jack lets out a low growl because yep, that'll do it – his cock is twitching and starting to fill inside the rigid plastic cage. It's not going to get very far, though – and damn if that knowledge doesn't just turn him on even more.

The tell-tale twitch at the corner of Ianto's mouth suggests that Ianto knows exactly what it's doing to him. "How about me, in your office, fucking you over your lovely big desk?" Ianto continues smoothly. "Fucking you hard and rough, just how you like it, and you unable even to get hard because your cock is all bound up in that cage and I have the key?"

Jack can't help growling again, even more throaty this time. He's fairly sure he can _feel_ his cock starting to press against the restricting curve of the sheath, and he shifts automatically, trying to get comfortable.

Ianto beams.

"Night, you two!" comes Gwen's voice from outside the door. "Don't do anything I wouldn't!"

"Night, Gwen," Ianto calls back, sounding impossibly unruffled, and Jack scowls a bit and mutters a goodnight of his own.

"Is she the last?" he asks Ianto, hoping to hell she is. He's a little worried about what he might give away with Ianto here, looking like that, if there's anyone else left in the building.

"She is," Ianto confirms with a blithe smile, glancing out through the doorway, presumably watching Gwen leave. A smile and a wave, and then he's turning back into the office.

Jack takes that as his cue and finally gets up – carefully – and comes round the end of his desk and across to Ianto. "At last," he breathes, and pulls Ianto in for a kiss, letting out some of his frustration and desire in a fierce clash of lips and breath and tongues.

Ianto's response is just as needy, and it reassures Jack just a little to discover that Ianto's just as worked up as he is, beneath that cool, calm façade. He presses in against Ianto, one hand on the back of his neck, the other on his ass, and moans whole-heartedly when Ianto's hand grabs his ass too.

Then he realises Ianto's other hand has slid between them and is investigating the feel of the hard bit of plastic where normally there'd be a nice hard cock trying to leap into his hand. Well, it's still trying to do that; it's just not getting anywhere.

"What does it feel like?" Ianto asks, against his mouth.

He can feel his cheeks pinking even as he laughs roughly, his hips instinctively trying to buck into Ianto's hand, even though he knows it won't do any good. "Don't you know? I thought for sure you'd have tried it out on yourself first."

"I did. It's not quite the same on your own, though." Ianto's watching him curiously, almost _studiously_ , and he shivers suddenly, intensely aware of how much of him Ianto can probably see right now, how humiliating this is, how _arousing_ it is. He grins.

"Feels hot as hell," he assures him, and dives in for another kiss.

Ianto's hand on his ass is soon joined by the other one, pulling him in, groping more and more possessively, and eventually he has to break off just to breathe because he loves it when Ianto gets all possessive like this. Not jealous, not anxious, but _claiming_ him, sure that – at least for the moment – Jack's body is all his.

Well. He can be _really_ sure of that right now.

"Fuck me, Ianto," he says urgently, still humping helplessly against Ianto – which probably isn't very comfortable for Ianto, come to think of it. It doesn't matter, though, because Ianto's smiling and pulling back.

"All right. Trousers down then, please."

He doesn't know how Ianto can make those simple words sound so hot. Perhaps it's that Ianto's not asking him to strip completely, that he's playing at this just being a quick office fuck because that's all he deserves – or that that's all Ianto's going to deign to _give_ until he's proven himself trustworthy. Perhaps it's that lovely Welsh accent. Or the fact that Ianto somehow still looks remarkably unruffled, three piece suit and tie still impeccably in place despite the fact his lips are flushed from kissing.

He grins, and holds Ianto's eyes as he goes through the procedure for the second time today: braces, belt, fly, and trousers pooling round his thighs.

Ianto holds his eyes until the trousers fall, and then he looks down at Jack's poor, caged cock, and swallows. The swallow is not, Jack thinks, a nervous gesture at all. It's _all_ anticipation.

"Desk," Ianto says, with a little 'turn around' motion of his hand, and Jack takes a breath and does as he's told, bending over the desk as he has so many times before, folding his arms on the clear surface and resting his head on them.

The plastic of the sheath clinks against the edge of the desk.

"That is unbelievably hot," Ianto says with satisfaction. "Lube, please."

He's pretty sure Ianto has some handy in his pocket but it's all a part of the game, and so he stretches out one arm to push open the desk drawer, fishes out the lube and hands it backwards. There's a quick brush of warm fingers against his as Ianto takes it. He folds his arm back in and lays his head down again.

There are squishy noises as Ianto squeezes out lube and warms it in his palm before slicking up his fingers. "So," he asks conversationally as he runs his fingers lightly down the crack of Jack's ass, making him shiver. "Can you come through this, sir?"

That makes him shiver even more, especially as he's sure Ianto already knows the answer. "I can probably _ejaculate_ ," he says, suddenly breathless as Ianto breaches him with two solid fingers. "But I won't get the full enjoyment of a proper climax. Need an erection to get all those lovely spasms."

Which is his way of telling Ianto he's done this before. Not that Ianto was probably in any doubt: Ianto knows he's experimented with pretty much every possible angle of every sex toy available up to this point in history. But it's a useful way of letting Ianto know that, yes, he knows what he's in for and, yes, he's okay with it.

"That's what I thought," Ianto says composedly, and Jack groans as the fingers inside him twist and pull, making his cock once again try its utmost to get hard. Ianto's touch is firm and sure, expertly opening him up and with just enough pressure and attention to his prostate to make it really, thoroughly enjoyable, even without being able to get hard.

By the time Ianto's fingers withdraw, Jack is _more_ than ready for the next stage. "Won't be long," Ianto mumbles, and Jack lets out a shuddery breath and does his best to relax as he listens to the familiar sounds of Ianto's fly, the tearing of foil, the squelch of lube, and Ianto's quiet hiss as his cock gets its first touch of the evening. He shivers, and forces himself to move in preparation, unfolding his arms from beneath his head and reaching backwards instead to curl around the corner of the desk beside his hips.

Ianto makes a low sound of appreciation and the next moment there's the soft bump of a rubber-clad cock against him. He moans, gripping the desk tighter to stop himself reaching back to try and urge Ianto into him, and does his best to let Ianto take his own sweet time. Which he appears to be doing, judging by the time that elapses before that blunt head actually presses inside him, slow, careful and more than a little teasing. He moans again, encouragingly, and hears Ianto laugh fondly, free hand sliding up under his shirts and patting his back. "Patience, love." The hand remains on his back, warm and steadying, and he shudders and _tries_ to find some patience, even though all the while his muscles are begging him to just push back and _fuck_ himself on that solid, hot cock.

By the time Ianto's fully seated within him, his fingers are white from gripping the desk edge. Ianto's hand strokes his back reassuringly as he goes still, deep inside, and Jack tries to breathe and relax as his body adjusts but it's only a few moments before he starts pressing backwards, always wanting more.

Ianto laughs warmly. "All right, gorgeous. Come on then," he says, and to Jack's relief he starts to move, long, wonderful strokes in and out, and he trembles a little at the stimulation, somehow so much more intense when he knows it's the only pleasure he's going to get.

And only getting more intense when Ianto starts angling his thrusts just so, grinding the head of his cock over Jack's prostate on every pass until he's panting and moaning with the intensity of it. "Fuck, you're gorgeous," Ianto breathes, his voice not quite steady, and Jack can't tell if it's from emotion or just the sheer intensity of the act. Perhaps both, he thinks. He decides Ianto is pretty fucking wonderful like this too, so powerful and in charge and fucking him so perfectly, and he moans even more loudly to let him know.

"I'd forgotten how loud you can get," Ianto remarks, picking up the pace a little in response. "It's a good thing no-one else is here."

Jack's glad no-one else is there too, not because he cares particularly if anyone else hears but because he knows Ianto does, and he really, really doesn't want Ianto to stop.

It's not long before he feels the change in Ianto as his pleasure starts to mount. The way his thrusts get shorter and harder, almost jabbing inside him, and begin to lose their steady pace. He groans breathlessly, and clenches down hard, wanting to make it all amazing for _Ianto_ , even if he knows he's not going to get to come himself.

Ianto moans, and then goes still, fingers trailing almost apologetically over his back.

"Jack. I can take it off if you want." He sounds as breathless and aroused as Jack is, but with a clear side of apology. "It's really only important for when you're not with me. I want you to enjoy being with me. I can take it off if you want to come."

"Don't you dare." It comes out more quickly and more harshly than he expects. He hangs his head, and shakes it a little. "I'm fine, Ianto. This is what I want. Coming isn't everything."

Yes, it would be nice to come, especially since the last year has been particularly devoid of orgasms (consensual ones, at least – the Master wrenched plenty out of him that he'd rather not have had, but that's not at all the same). But, at least if he can get this right, there'll be plenty of other times to come. Right now, instead, he has Ianto inside him and the wonderful, intense _intimacy_ of exploring this together, and that's worth more to him than a dozen orgasms.

There's a pause as Ianto takes this in, then he nods briskly and starts moving again, his breath catching almost immediately as sensation takes him. "Thank you," he whispers, rather hoarsely, and Jack grins and prises one hand off the edge of the desk and holds it out instead, palm up, offering. Ianto takes the hint and grasps his hand, turning it over and winding his fingers in between Jack's, pressing his hand down to the desk. Such a little thing, but it ramps up the intimacy a hundred-fold, makes him shiver and pant anew.

Ianto grips his hand hard as he starts really going for it, strong, hard strokes that make the cock cage clack against the desk, that make Jack shudder and cry out as his prostate is assaulted over and over and over again, until he can feel wetness against the head of his cock where it's pressed against the plastic and realises he's coming, not spurting, not spasming with pleasure as he normally would, but just dribbling, weak little pulses of come dribbling out the hole in the cage, and he moans because it's just so fucking _hot_ being used like this, giving everything up to Ianto, letting Ianto have the whole of him without the pleasure of climax, while he can _feel_ Ianto rapidly coming undone, sharp, jagged thrusts into him and then a soft cry as Ianto goes still, shuddering, fingers gripping his in an intense communication of shared, incredible pleasure and trust and power exchange.

His own heart is still hammering in his chest, his ass giving off weak little spasms in an echo of Ianto's climax, as Ianto finally folds down over him, and he shudders and gasps, incredibly grateful for the grounding weight of Ianto on top of him as he tries to come down from his not-orgasm without the usual chemical help of release. Ianto squeezes his hand and then uncurls his fingers, bringing them up instead to touch his face, soft and enquiring.

"All right?" he asks, gentle and a little bit tentative.

Jack grins. "More than all right. That was _incredible_."

Ianto lets out a slightly surprised, slightly shaky laugh. "Yeah."

A moment, and then: "Are you… do you want me to take it off for the night? Will you be able to sleep in it?"

"Ianto…" he growls. "Don't you go soft on me now, not after being so amazing! Of course I don't want it off and of course I'll sleep." As much as he ever does, anyway. He looks round at Ianto, waits patiently again until Ianto meets his eyes, and then says gently, "I want to do this, for you. I want to prove you can trust me. For as long as it takes."

There's a pause, and then Ianto smiles – a real smile, affectionate and proud, his eyes shining. "Thank you," he says softly.

And then he straightens and it's all back to business. "Right then," he says briskly, "let's get everything all cleaned up! At least you haven't made a mess of the desk this time!"

"There's probably a bit on the floor!" Jack laughs, a little high with relief. Probably not as much mess as usual, though, which he's sure Ianto will be grateful for.

He shudders as Ianto eases out of him, with another long brush against his prostate that pulls one last weak spasm and drip from his limp cock, and he clenches his fingers as Ianto cleans him up carefully, ass and cage, still feeling a little shivery, an odd mix of turned-on and wrung out. It's different, but that doesn't make it bad. It makes it interesting. Interesting and exciting and _good_.

* * *

And when he's all dressed again and Ianto's kissed him (possessively) and smiled (sweetly) and departed (with a lingering, happy glance round at him), and he's heading down to the kitchen to see if there's any pizza left for a late supper, he's still not regretting any of it.

What the hell, he thinks. Before he went away, he made Ianto play this game by his rules. No strings, no expectations, certainly no intention of being faithful if other opportunities arose. But perhaps…

His thoughts are cut off by an ominous beeping from his wrist strap and seconds later the alarm goes off on the Rift monitor. He sighs and heads back up to the Hub. Time for introspection later, _after_ he's saved the world.


End file.
